


time and time again

by theafterimages



Series: los angeles [2]
Category: GOT7
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-04
Updated: 2015-10-04
Packaged: 2018-04-24 16:38:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4927141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theafterimages/pseuds/theafterimages
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Jackson met Zitao right after moving to Los Angeles, he'd thought he was lucky. After four years together and counting, he knows he is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	time and time again

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired in part by [one of my favorite predebut Tao anecdotes](http://ztaohs.tumblr.com/post/89773737733/a-little-cute-thing-about-taos-predebut-life-as-a). Thank you so much to S and J for looking this over for me!

Jackson walks out of Kelly’s coffee shop, shopping bags and a cup of gelato in hand, only to startle back as a Darth Vader impersonator sweeps past. Not the first costumed figure Jackson’s seen during his afternoon exploring Hollywood Boulevard, but he wasn’t expecting them to be roaming around the underground shopping area.

He quickly grabs his phone out of his pocket, intending to take a picture to send to Joonmyun, only to discover that it’s dead.

“ _Shit_ ,” Jackson swears, staring down at the blank screen. Maybe he shouldn’t have sent Bambam so many pictures today. But Bambam’s been complaining about how he wants to be in Los Angeles with him and Mark _now_ , and how it’ll take forever until the school year ends and he can fly out for a few weeks. Jackson’s been trying to help Bambam experience the city through him. And it’s been fun, answering all of Bambam’s questions and seeing his reactions to stuff. Just a little too much fun for his phone.

He hears a quiet, light laugh and looks up quickly, only to see a guy about his own age—but a lot taller—in the doorway of the Cartier shop next door, looking at him in amusement. “Sorry!” Jackson calls quickly. 

“Are you okay?” the guys asks, still smiling as he walks toward him.

Once he close enough that Jackson can see him better, Jackson swallows. LA’s full of gorgeous people, but this guy is Jackson’s exact type, tan and fit and handsome. 

“Uh,” he begins, then shakes his head, as if that’ll help clear it. “Yeah. My phone’s dead, that’s all.”

“Do you need to borrow mine?” he asks immediately, the red Cartier shopping bag in his hand rustling as he reaches into the pocket of his tight jeans.

“No, I was just going to text my roommate,” Jackson explains quickly. “But I’m meeting him soon, so it’ll be okay— _shit_.”

The guy grins. “What now?”

“I’m meeting Mark at Target, on La Brea. I was gonna use my phone for directions—but whatever, I’ll make it. I think.”

“I can give you directions, if you can remember them,” he offers. “Or I can walk there with you, if you want.”

Jackson’s heartbeat quickens. Yeah, he _definitely_ wants. “Really? I know it’s not close by.”

“I like walking. And then I won’t have to wonder if the Scientologists got you.”

He laughs. “I’m Jackson, by the way.”

“I’m Zitao.” Zitao’s gaze drifts along Jackson’s body lazily, before his gaze catches on something. “Your gelato’s melting.”

Jackson quickly looks down and discovers that, sure enough, his dessert is definitely looking less solid than it had. He swears again, making Zitao laugh; then he’s struck by an idea. “Want me to buy you some before we leave?”

“You don’t have to-”

“No, come on. It’s the least I can do, right?”

“Well, if you really want to,” Zitao says playfully, and Jackson pulls him back into the café.

They eat as they walk, taking turns talking a mile a minute. Jackson explains that he’s just moved to the city; that he met Mark through a pen pal program between their schools eleven years ago and they’ve stayed in touch ever since. Zitao shares that he lives with his best friend, Sehun, in an apartment in Koreatown. 

Jackson grabs his arm or nudges him from time to time as he talks; normal touches, nothing special. He touches everyone, can’t live without it, but it’s been a long time since he’s met someone who makes it feel like sparks are being set off every time they connect. Somewhere along Melrose Avenue Jackson takes Zitao’s hand without even thinking. Judging by the way Zitao laces his fingers with Jackson’s, he doesn’t seem to mind at all.

Mark’s waiting for him on the upper story of the shopping center, and leans over the balcony railing and waves as soon as they catch sight of each other. Jackson waves back, then turns to Zitao. “Come on, you can meet Mark!”

“Okay,” he agrees, then squeezes Jackson’s hand quickly. “Hey, you should give me your number. Then I can text you mine so you’ll have it in case you need anything else.”

Jackson grins. “People are so helpful in LA.”

“I have to make sure you want to stay, right?” Zitao says, smiling back.

Jackson has to let go of him to type in his number, but as soon as Zitao puts his phone away he takes Jackson’s hand again, as easily as anything, and lets Jackson tow him up the stairs to where Mark is waiting.

 

 

 

 

 

 

It takes Zitao almost an hour to decide which pairs of sunglasses he wants for his birthday this year. Jackson waits patiently as Zitao tries on what seems like every pair Cartier offers, killing time by playing games on his phone and texting Mark and reassuring Zitao he looks good every time he asks for his opinion.

Zitao kisses his cheek when it’s finally time for Jackson to hand his credit card over to the salesperson. “Thank you, Jackson.”

“I know, best boyfriend,” Jackson says with feigned modesty. Zitao laughs, slipping his hand into Jackson’s.

They walk next door to Kelly’s, where Jackson buys cups of gelato for both of them and fudge to take over to Mark and Sehun’s later that night. Jackson still remembers meeting Zitao here four years ago, still remembers that first time he saw him, and squeezes Zitao’s hand as he thinks back. He never would have imagined where that meeting would lead.

They take their gelato to a round table outside the shop and settle in, Zitao twining his feet around Jackson’s ankles under the table. Jackson swipes a bite of Zitao’s chocolate gelato, smirking around the spoon as Zitao yelps indignantly.

“Did I say you could have some?”

He makes his best pleading face, eyes wide and lower lip jutted out. “Yes?”

As he’d hoped, Zitao crumbles. “I can’t take you anywhere.”

Jackson leers. “You can take me home.” Zitao laughs, but Jackson thinks it over, keeping his eyes on Zitao’s as he lets his mouth curve into a suggestive smile. “We don’t have to meet Mark and Sehun for a few hours,” he says, drawing the words out a little. “Want to go home for a while? We can do whatever you want.”

Zitao smiles back, and just the sight of it has Jackson instinctively leaning forward. If they were at home now he’d probably be out of his chair, already dragging Zitao toward their room. “Anything?”

“Anything,” he promises. “I mean, as long as we can both walk afterwards.”

Zitao giggles, the sound carrying in the open space of the shopping center. “You’re so practical.”

“ _Somebody_ has to be.”

Zitao grins and eats a spoonful of gelato, then scoops up another, holding this one out to Jackson. Jackson plays it up as he swallows, lets his eyes flutter closed and his throat work and hums in satisfaction.

“Let’s go home,” Zitao croaks after a beat. Jackson bursts out laughing as he watches Zitao promptly gulp down the rest of his dessert.

“Dude, you’re gonna get-”

As if on cue, Zitao promptly drops his spoon, grimacing. “Brain freeze, _ow_.”

“And you can’t take _me_ anywhere?” Jackson teases. Zitao pouts at him, and Jackson leans across the table again, this time so that he can cup Zitao’s face in his hands and kiss his forehead.


End file.
